Hiding Behind A Mask (The Maskless Trilogy #1) by K. Weikel
Chapter 21
Becca feels hot tears wedging in between the inside of her mask and the skin on her cheeks. Twitch’s face stares up at her, his eyes shut and his hair askew. What had she done?
“I’m sorry…” She whispers through a sob. “I’m sorry…”
The color of white catches her eye. It sticks out from underneath his collar, caught between the fabric and the skin on his neck. Becca slowly reaches for it with a shaky hand, and hears the light scraping of the ridges on her fingertips as she touches it. It slides out easily, and as she brings it to her face, she catches sight of the black letters staring back at her.
You were alone. Have you found comfort yet?
The piece of paper floats back down to Twitch’s still body as Becca lets go of it. What’s happening? What’s going on?
Becca’s mind feels fried as she stands up shakily and presses the button on her earpiece.
“Eduard…” She chokes out, afraid of what will happen next. Another warm tear gets stuck between her face and her mask. “Eduard, I just shot Twitch…”
Dead silence is on the other line. Becca tries to hold in her sobs as she looks down at the boy. Why had he wanted her to kill him? To destroy him? What was he trying to say with his last breath? Who? Betrayed who?
“I’ll find you,” Eduard finally says, his voice strained. “Library, right? Stay there. I’m coming.”
Becca nods as if he can see her and takes one last look at Twitch, whose body lies shockingly still. She waits for a breath, for a movement, just like she had when Victoria… But time, it’s her doing. She’s the one that pulled the trigger, and Twitch had been on the wrong side of the gun. But if she hadn’t have pulled the trigger…
Becca tears herself away from him and glances at the gun on the floor, lying perfectly still, and looking wickedly innocent. It’s not the gun that killed him. It’s the one that held it in her hands. Such a deadly device, such a powerful item… Such great responsibility. Responsibility that Becca has learned she doesn’t posses.
She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and takes a step forward, away from her friend behind her. She reaches down and grabs the thin book off the floor, hoping she can walk out without anyone noticing. Everyone had left when the lights had gone out. She should be alone.
Would be, if it weren’t for Twitch lying dead in the back of the library.
She makes her way to the front door, now unguarded by a librarian and walks out. Little does she know about the coldness and hardness growing inside of her, growing inside of her heart. Little does she know about the truth eating away at her sanity.
Becca tries not to think about Twitch. About Victoria. Her fault. They’re both dead because of her.
Banshee. She has to find Banshee. He knows what she wants to know. He has knowledge beyond her comprehension, and she wants to understand. He’s the only one she can think of that will give her information, should he agree to. Should he decide not to kill her too.
But where would he be?
The city air hits her as the door swings open, the strange smell of food in the air. There’s going to be a meeting. People only bake for the community when a meeting is about to happen, helping create a sort-of peaceful environment between the white masks and the black masks.
There’s a stage in the center of the city, right outside of city hall, and it pops into Becca’s view as she makes her way towards it. Many people recognize her as Belle, and she nods in acknowledgement, her brain somewhere else.
“Good evening, everyone,” Quill says into the microphone on the podium. Five other masks stand behind him, looking out over the crowd while six security guards circle the stage to make sure no one tries anything. “And welcome to this town meeting. We have come up with some new rules we want to incorporate into the system…”
Becca doesn’t hear the rest as her eyes fall upon the plain mask over to the left of the stage. It stares at her, as if waiting for her to see it, to notice it.
Banshee.
He turns and starts to walk between two buildings, both of them black, as his clothing drag slightly behind him. Before disappearing behind the back corners of the narrow alleyway, he turns to look back at Becca one more time.
Becca walks away from the crowd to follow him, taking the opportunity laid before her. She wants answers, she wants something to fill the emptiness she feels in her heart, she wants someone to tell her what’s going on. She wants to know why Banshee is following her, is doing all of these things to her.
The air seems cooler as she passes the front walls of the black buildings. She listens for footsteps as she walks briskly down the passageway. She’s going to find him, her mind is made up.
She turns this way and that, following the echoes of Banshee’s sounds and shuffles of his feet. The alleyways seem to stretch on and on as she strains her ears to hear him, and then, suddenly, his sounds almost cease to exist.
Becca moves forward, hoping he’s still up ahead.
The alleyways open up into a large, dark square in the middle of four black buildings. There’s a single light flickering on one of the black walls, and you can see the stars that rest above on a blanket of darkening sky.
Becca sees Banshee standing before her, standing like he’s a completely normal person, but Becca knows better. She knows he’s not mentally stable, and that makes her want to second-guess what she’s trying to do. What if he really does kill her this time?
“What a turn of events,” Banshee chuckles. “You following me. You must be desperate. Are you desperate, Becca Reed? Are you?”
“I want answers,” She says, trying to make herself seem less terrified than she is. Her heart is hammering in her chest and her throat is clogged with a knot.
“To what?” Banshee asks, not moving from where he stands.
“Everything.”
“Specifics, Becca, specifics.”
Becca takes a shaky breath. Should she really be doing this?
“Why did you kill Victoria?” Her voice wavers, but she recovers. “Why have all of these things happened? How did all of these things happen? What’s going on?”
Banshee chuckles and reaches up to his mask. He unties the knot in the back and slides off the plain blackness covering his face. He looks at Becca with an eeriness that is unsettling to her.
“You’ve been reading, yes?” He says, the cut in his cheek moving as his jaw moves. It sends chills up Becca’s spine—the bad kind of chills. Not like the ones she gets when she touches Eduard, but the kind that makes red flags pop up inside of her, telling her that things are not right.
She fights not to turn the other way and flee from the scene, but she wants to know, has to know.
“Yes.”
“What books, Becca?”
“Books about the black masks and the white masks.”
“And?” Banshee presses, taking a step towards her. “And?”
“And about the leader.”
A sly smile spreads over Banshee’s face and he nods. “Read it all. Don’t stop. Read it all.”
“But why?”
“Because,” Banshee says, putting his mask back on to cover his smile as Becca looks down at the book she holds in her hands. “All of your answers are in there. You’ll see. You’ll understand. And then you’ll find your comfort.”
Becca’s eyes snap up to look at him, but he’s already disappeared.
Banshee.
The gun. Twitch. The notes…
Banshee. He’s the one that did it. He’s behind it.
So Becca would like to think.